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Classic Columns

National Ice Cream Day ends in sodomy yet again

For the fifth straight year, Duluth’s National Ice Cream Day festivities have ended in a barrage of sodomy. Every single person at the event took part, with both men and women ritualistically sodomizing anything within their line of sight. People, animals, potted plants, and even aesthetically pleasing bicycle racks were sodomized with vicious efficiency. No one knows why every National Ice Cream Day ends this way. Once the event reached its predetermined end time at 8pm, the chaos stopped as quickly as it had begun.

“I just don’t understand it,” said Police Chief Brad Thurmon. “Every year the city plans a delightful family friendly ice cream social filled with games, musical performances and all the free ice cream people can eat, and every year it ends in a terrifying avalanche of sodomy. People, dogs, seagulls, even ladies’ hats! We’ve got an entire shop down here in Canal Park dedicated to fashionable ladies’ hats, and look at them now. Who’s going to want to wear these brutally sodomized hats now?”

Lawler graciously declines Best Columnist award

The Duluth News-Tribune’s Christa Lawler is this year’s top columnist in the Best of the Northland awards, but she won’t be for long. Lawler has declined to accept the award, shocking the region and leaving runner-up Paul Ryan to take the reigns. He will receive both the bragging rights and the $400,000 cash prize that comes with the honor.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking this weekend, and I’ve come to the conclusion that everyone who reads the Duluth Reader smells like farts,” said Lawler, in a quote totally not made up by one of her rivals writing a pretend news story about her. “Because of this, and only this, I will be declining the award. Paul Ryan is now the best columnist in the Northland. Frankly, he always has been. I don’t know what these country yokels were thinking, voting him into second place yet again.”

Some find Lawler’s timing for the announcement a bit too convenient. Currently on parole for throwing a soiled diaper at a bald eagle, Lawler’s kind gesture seems to be giving her a public relations boost, distracting the public from the numerous photos of poop eagles that otherwise would have dominated the front page news this week. Lawler claims the timing is merely a coincidence.

With first pick of NBA Draft, Timberwolves select bag of Oreo cookies

The Minnesota Timberwolves, known for their abysmal draft choices over the years, have preemptively cut their losses and selected a bag of Oreo cookies with the first pick of the 2015 NBA draft.

“There’s just so much pressure to make the right pick, and we always muck it up,” said TImberwolves head coach Flip Saunders. “We are so awful at this that it’s almost like a curse. Being losers is in our blood. Selecting this bag of Oreo cookies will make our fans upset, just like when we drafted Wayne Ellington, but at least this time when the dust storm of failure clears we’ll have a bag of cookies to eat.”

The first pick is expected to be a choice between big men Karl-Anthony Towns and Jahlil Okafor, but the Timberwolves have now made it a race between Oreo cookies, which are the popular choice but may be overhyped, and Hydrox cookies, which have been around longer and have more experience but won’t create as much excitement with fans.

I’m not allowed to date Asian women

First of all, I’m white. That’s one strike against me. White guys always have a thing for Asian women. No matter what country I live in, no matter how many non-Asian women I date in my life, the mere act of me glancing at an Asian woman will produce eye rolls all around. It’s a thing.

Secondly, I live in Koreatown. Do you have any idea how douchey that seems? A white guy living in Koreatown and dating an Asian girl? That just can’t happen. I might as well be the creepy white guy in college who hangs with the foreign exchange students all day, pretending to teach them English. I don’t even have a preference when it comes to which races I date, yet to most, my situation couldn’t be more obvious if I started keeping anime charms attached to my cellphone.

Add to all this that I wear skinny jeans and have a pathetically amateurish hipster beard, and people are just going to start throwing things at me. And rightfully so. That’s strike three and four, and we’re only in the third paragraph of this column. If I were to start a band where I wrote catchy songs about Asian girls I was afraid to talk to, a wormhole might open and swallow me whole, forcing me into a parallel dimension with other people who are too obnoxious to function in the normal universe.

I think I’m the only person who’s stoned in this art gallery

All I had was a five dollar bill, and I sure as hell wasn’t giving it to this bow-tied asshole. I searched my pockets over and over again, hoping there was a single I had forgotten about. No luck.

The bartender was now watching me intently. If I had simply walked away without tipping for my complimentary beer, he would have been too busy to notice, but I lingered too long. Now my awkward pocket searching was the focus of the entire room. Now I was the asshole. All eyes were trained on me, waiting to see what this unreasonably nervous man would do.

At least that’s how it seemed in my head. It probably didn’t help that I was a little stoned. I wasn’t faded enough to look stoned, but I had to focus more than usual to accomplish things that were normally handled subconsciously. I had to focus on holding my beer so I didn’t drop it. I also had to focus on keeping my eyes fully open, instead of half closed like a stoner. I had to focus on holding my arms at my side in a normal fashion, because was I doing that? How do people normally let their arms hang? Am I doing it right? Sweet Christ, someone tell me!